The Hetalia Games
by xXSapphireDawnXx
Summary: The Hunger Games have returned after "the Mockingjay" and her husband have passed away. The Capitol made a comeback and took over the 13 Districts once again. But this time, the Hunger Games aren't as fair. There is no "one boy, one girl" rule anymore, and the ages now extend up to 20. How will Arthur and Alfred survive the 96th Hunger Games? USUK, Slight Pru/Fem!Can
1. Four Words

**Hey look! Another story that's probably not going to be finished! R&R, please! I apologise if any of this Hunger Games stuff is inaccurate. I haven't read the series for a year, and I really don't feel like watching the movie, even though it's right there on Netflix.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or Hetalia, no matter how much I wish I did. Hetalia would totally be at least a shounen-ai if it was mine. The cover photo also doesn't belong to me. PM me if you know who owns if, or if you do, so I can give the creator credit.**

•••

Alfred pulled on some of the nicer clothes he had for occasions like this. If the reaping could be considered an occasion.

Today was the reaping of the 96th Hunger Games. After "The Mockingjay", Katniss Mellark, along with her husband, Peeta Mellark, had passed away, the Capitol had taken control of all 13 Districts once again. The battle had lasted about a year and a half, forcing the 13 Districts to once again become servants to the Capitol. They had reestablished the Hunger Games, starting back up where the last one had ended at 76. They weren't as fair anymore, though. There was no "one boy, one girl" rule anymore.

One large crystal globe held all the names, no matter what gender. The ages were extended now too, ranging up to 20. Now, a child had 2 more years that could have the chance of their life ending. Children had 8 years, hoping they weren't picked for the competition that some of the nicer districts thought being picked for was an honour.

Alfred laced up the laces on his shoes, wearing them with hole-less jeans and a black shirt. His clothes weren't as nice as Madeline's, but that was because he was a guy. But they were better than his usual clothes, which had holes through the jeans, and when his shirt was slightly fraying at the bottom.

Madeline poked her head in the room. She was dressed in a powdery purple skirt to bring out her eyes that went down to slightly below her knees. A white, loose, slightly lacy in the collar, blouse was tucked into her skirt. There was a velvety jacket that matched her skirt, with a single button about three quarters up her chest, so you could see the blouse underneath both above and below the button. Madeline wore white ballet flats to match the blouse. She looked lovely in it; it was their mother's, from the days before the Capitol had made a comeback.

The shy girl quietly told him they needed to go if they were to get to city square on time. They definitely didn't want to be caught at their home when the names were being drawn. Alfred nodded before standing up, following his twin sister out of the room. Their mother was waiting for them in the room downstairs.

The walk to city square was short and silent, no one, not even Alfred, wanting to talk. If they talked about the reaping, it would increase the feeling of dread in their stomachs, but if they didn't, it would feel awkward and forced. So they just stayed quiet. Groups of people were walking to the same place as them, where they waited in a line to have their fingers pricked for a blood sample.

Alfred squeezed his sister's hand once more before going into the boys' line. Even though the slips of paper that would be life or death weren't separate anymore, the lines were separate because it was easier to find names. After two or three minutes of waiting, he finally got to the front.

"Alfred Jones-Williams," Alfred stated his name as the Peacekeeper looked up, pricking his finger with the small needle. It was painless, and the woman nodded, letting him in the square. Alfred tried to wait for Madeline, but was ushered on by a different Peacekeeper trying to keep people moving, as to keep the small paths from getting congested.

The blonde boy stepped into the area for 18 year olds, trying to look over other kids his age for his sister. Finally he saw her, waving for her, which she sighed and shook her head at, but walked over to him just the same. Alfred pulled her arm back to where he had been originally. It had a better view.

As they waited for it to start, Alfred could see Madeline braiding little bits of hair together, then unbraiding them again to calm herself down.* He could see the smaller boy next to him wringing his hands, occasionally running his hand through his brown hair. The boy's hair colour was more common than Alfred's in District 12, blonde hair being nearly died out from the population of the District, along with light-coloured eyes.

The blonde could already see the escort and mentors on stage, along with the mayor of District 12. The ball was in he centre of the stage, haunting people's minds in hope they weren't picked.

The escort's name was Elizaveta Héderváry, and was a kind woman, if not slightly shy at first meeting, despite being from the Capitol. No one knew how violent she could get with a frying pan except Gilbert, though. Her hair was almost natural, with only the tips being dyed pink which contrasted nicely with her light brown hair. Elizaveta's eyes appeared green, but they could've been contacts; nobody knew with the Capitol's crazy clothing (Of course all you Hetalia fans know they're real). She wasn't as crazy with what the people from the Capitol called fashion as all the other escorts. Her heels were as large as any other escort's from the Capitol, which from now on, the author will call Capitolists, for lack of a real word.

The microphone was tapped, and the large screens magnified the person in front of the mike, who happened to be Mayor Joulier. (Jou as in bonjour and lier as in lee-air) She read off the speech she was supposed to, but you could see from the strained look on her face that she was just hoping her son, Romus (no, not Roman Empire) wasn't picked. She added a "Happy Hunger Games!" before going back to sit down in her seat.

Elizaveta got up from her seat, and she tried to hide a pained look that she would have to send two kids off to their likely death behind an excited look, that most everyone bought. Alfred couldn't see past her excited expression, but Madeline could.

"Now it's time to see our two lucky tributes for this year's Games!" she said into the microphone, her face being magnified so everyone in the square (and the adults who couldn't make it early enough outside the square) could see easily. Not that they weren't all staring at Ms. Héderváry already.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" Elizaveta repeated the cliché saying that was mandatory to say. She then plunged her hand into the crystal sphere, digging around for what would be the unlucky winner. A slip was pulled out, and a name was said. But after the first name was said, neither the Jones-Williams twins could speak.

"Madeline-" was all they heard, while the others heard the last name too. Madeline was nudged forward by a dark-haired boy, and she began walking up to the stage before everyone could hear Alfred shout desperately, "I volunteer as tribute! I volunteer as tribute!" Some looked at the younger twin in disbelief, while others in admiration. This saying hadn't been used in District 12 since the 74th Hunger Games. The Peacekeepers grabbed her arms, and pulled her back as her brother walked up instead, taking her place in death sentence. Tears filled Madeline's eyes, and she reached out for her brother as they crossed paths, but the the two male Peacekeepers yanked her away, letting go of her once they had gotten to the 18 year old section again.

"And your name is...?" Elizaveta asked, nervously. This seemed like it was going to be a repeat of 74.

"Alfred F. Jones," he replied, shortening his last name to Jones. His parents had conceived children without being married, so they had taken both their mother's (Williams) and father's (Jones) last name. But their father had died, beaten to death by the Peacekeepers for being out beyond the fence, hunting, so Alfred preferred to use his last name to honour him.

"Are you her brother?" Elizaveta asked, recognising the Jones from "Jones-Williams". She had always thought sibling relationships this close were adorable, and wished she were as close with at least one of her siblings**.

"Twin," Alfred confirmed with a fake smile and a nod.

The crowd clapped quietly, before a few people started the admiration gesture in which you pressed three fingers to your lips, and held them to the sky. Elizaveta hoped this wasn't going to be another rebellion. The Hunger Games were unfair enough already; if the rebellion started again, this time the Hunger Games would be worse. They might even destroy the Districts.

Elizaveta nodded before moving on to the next name. Her hand was swimming in the slips of paper, though the paper somehow wasn't causing any paper cuts. She pulled out a slip of paper, reading it once over to make sure she was reading it right. Elizaveta's stomach lurched, reading the paper one more time before saying it aloud.

"Madeline-" this time, everyone heard the same as Alfred and Maddie had heard the first time.

"I volunteer as tribute!" another blonde boy called out from the 18 year old section. Elizaveta and Alfred both looked at the boy approaching the stage with bewilderment, though different thoughts ran through their heads. 'Another older brother?' was the thought from Ms. Héderváry. 'Who...? Why...?' Was what was running through Alfred's mind over and over.

The older boy mounted the stage. He had sandy blonde hair that looked like it refused to be tamed. The volunteer had large eyebrows, but mentioning them would probably piss him off. His viridian eyes were on fire, filled with hatred for the Capitol. He knew what he was going up against, but he wouldn't be one to cry himself to sleep. Alfred bet he would at least be in the top 8. The older teen looked like a fighter.

"What is your name?" Elizaveta asked, turning to the green eyed boy, who was slightly shorter than Alfred, but about the same as the escort with her heels on.

"Arthur Kirkland," the teen stated. He had a British accent, similar to the Capitol accent, but less high pitched and annoying. British, or rather, any other nation's accent was quite rare considering that they were in what used to be America, and moving from or to Panem was very expensive. Why would his family want to move here again? This was a horrible country, with the Hunger Games, and the Districts who were slaves to the Capitol.

"Give a round of applause to our tributes for the 96th Hunger Games!" Elizaveta shouted into the microphone, but the people disobeyed. They once again did the three finger gesture, showing their admiration and hopes for the two volunteered tributes.

The crowd was dismissed, people letting out the breath they had been holding, as if it would somehow prevent their child from being picked. Money was exchanged between bettors who had gambled on what gender would be chosen, if anyone would volunteer, the ages of the tributes, et cetera.

After most everyone had left, Alfred turned to look at the British teenager beside him who had risked his life for a stranger's sister. There was a single word on the American's lips, "Why?" He asked, not coldly, for Arthur had saved his twin's life with just four words that could possibly kill him, "I volunteer as tribute."

"You shouldn't have to be pitted against your sister in the Hunger Games. It would break both of you, not to mention your parents, that you might have to kill each other," Arthur responded, no emotion slipping onto his face. He walked away, following Elizaveta who was gesturing for them to follow her, as if those two sentences were enough of an explanation.

Alfred ran to catch up with the two people strolling towards the train station to say their goodbyes.

•••

***I actually do this when I am bored or nervous.**

****I am pretty sure Hungary doesn't have siblings, but I wanted to add that part in.**

**Till next chapter!**

**-Sapphire **


	2. Final Goodbyes

**Chapter 2**

**I realise I forgot to mark this as a crossover. Curse my laziness I am not moving it, even though it would take like three clicks.**

**Sorry for the long author note at the end in advance, and for my writing skills. I'm only in middle school, so I haven't had to write all those long papers yet.**

**Disclaimer- Neither Hetalia nor the Hunger Games belong to me.**

•••

Alfred walked alongside Elizaveta and Arthur as they made their way towards the train station to say their final goodbyes to their family and friends. Alfred wanted to say something to break the silence and make it more comfortable for the trio, but he didn't know what he _could_ say.

Arthur wrung his hands. Was it really the right choice to volunteer as tribute? 'Yes,' he confirmed after a minute of thinking. It's not as if his family would miss one of their five children. His siblings didn't particularly like him, picking on him for every little thing, and pointing out his mistakes. And he had at least saved one of Alfred and Madeline's mother's children. So help him, Arthur would do all he could to try to save her other child.

It wasn't likely for District 12 to have a winner, but if this was their year, Arthur was going to make sure that Alfred won.

They reached the train station before long, and entered two different rooms, where their family could talk to them in private, as well as their friends.

~~~Arthur's Goodbyes~~~

The rooms were empty except for a chair, table, and a love seat. The leather was coming off in places, and looked as though it had been scratched, like someone had tried to hang on to their past life, not wanting to leave. The table sat, chipped off on the corner, similar scratches running along the leg and face. It seemed no one had bothered to replace the furniture, seeing as District 12 was the poorest District out of the 13, considering District 13 had enough money to build nuclear weapons.

Arthur sat down on the brown leather of the chair, running his hand along the scratches. It managed to soothe him slightly, knowing there was still reality when his world had gotten turned upside down with one short sentence. The roughness of the scratches let him know this was all real and not just some dream he would awaken to in the morning.

Four people entered the room. Arthur looked up to see his brothers, Liam, William, Gavin, and Peter. As soon as Peter saw his older brother by 6 years, he ran up and hugged him tightly, nearly crushing Arthur. Arthur gave him a faint smile, looking down at his younger brother, pulling his arms out of Peter's grip to hug him back.

The younger boy was sobbing into his chest, asking the same question over and over, the same one Alfred had asked before they had made their way over here, "Why?" It made him feel so guilty that he had done this. He ran his hands through Peter's hair and in circles on his back, trying to get him to calm down.

"Don't worry about me," Arthur weakly said, ignoring Peter's question that was being repeated over and over, making him sound like a broken record. "I'm going to try as hard as I can to make sure our District has a victor." It wasn't a lie.

"How can I not worry about you? You're my brother!" Peter wailed, clinging onto Arthur's shirt as if he was going to be swept away. The three eldest just waited awkwardly for Peter to stop so Arthur could actually hear them.

Peter's sobs died down to whimpers, into slow breathing after some time. His grip had loosened on the elder's shirt, so he barely had a grip on it anymore. It took Arthur a minute to realise Peter had fallen asleep on him. Liam noticed this and lifted the youngest brother off of the tribute. Arthur nodded at him in thanks, not wanting to wake Peter up as Liam laid him on the love seat.

"I'm sorry," William was the first one to speak up, "we're all sorry for making your life as terrible as it was. We were just doing what brothers do." Arthur thought of Alfred and Madeline, but decided not to bring it up, as to not make them feel worse than they did already.

"It wasn't only you. I was as guilty of tormenting you as you were to me," Arthur responded. He really didn't want them to feel worse, knowing there was a one out of twenty six chance, under 5% chance (3.84) he would survive. And that was if all of the tributes had the same amount of experience.

"Arthur, just try as hard as you can. Go even further. We know you can do it since you always practised with Mum," Gavin said softly, before the Peacekeeper came in saying their time was up. They walked out reluctantly, Peter being carried, with a chorus of "I love you"'s reaching his ears, which he repeated back to his four siblings.

Victoria and Thomas Kirkland walked in through the door a minute after Arthur's brothers left. The sight of her little baby leaving, possibly to his doom, made her tear up again. Why had they decided to move? Oh, yeah. Panem hadn't exactly told all these other countries what they were doing to their citizens just because their ancestors had rebelled. So the Kirkland family had thought moving to America would be a nice change. Well, Arthur didn't want to, but nobody cared what Arthur thought.

Arthur sighed; his mother was supposed to be strong. She was the one who had taught him how to use a bow back in England; he had wanted to be an archer in the Olympics, a tradition that every almost every other country besides Panem still did. Now she had been reduced to tears, even though she knew he had practice with a bow.

"Mum, I'll be fine. You taught me how to shoot arrows a long time ago. If I get my hands on a bow, we'll be fine," Arthur reassured his mother, giving her a giant hug. His father sat silently on the other side of the love seat. He wasn't going to be reduced to tears so easily. He would save that for when, _if_ the mourners came to give their apologies.

Victoria seemed slightly cheered up at the fact, but not much. She hugged her son, kissing him on the forehead. She straightened up and used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. Arthur was slightly surprised at the quick change in emotions.

"You're right. We'll be cheering for you the whole way," his mother said supportively, letting go of her son. She, along with her husband began encouraging him, though Arthur felt it was more for their sake than his. His mother would tear up every now and then, but she would recover almost immediately, wanting to stay strong in front of her son.

"There's one more visitor for you," the female Peacekeeper stated, leading Arthur's parents out of the room, who had left the same way his brothers had; with millions of "We love you."'s.

She ushered the girl who was waiting in. His eyes widened; it was Madeline who had come in the room. The door closed behind the Peacekeeper,and Madeline walked closer to him. After a few moments she finally said something in her soft spoken manner.

"Thank you."

It was two words, but they meant a lot to Arthur. He hadn't expected her to come in to see him, much less thank him. That simple phrase made him not regret what he had done. Arthur's family had made him feel guilty,reminding him of the good times, few, but good, times they had had together and by crying in front of him.

"I know it was a lot for my brother to sacrifice possibly his life, but for you to..." Madeline had continued, trailing off to try and find the right words, "I can't possibly thank you enough..." The slightly younger girl unclasped the necklace she had been wearing. It had the mockingjay that was the sign of the rebellion so long ago on it.

"Here, use this as your good luck charm," she softly spoke once again.

Maddie took a few steps forward until she was behind him, and fastened the necklace on his neck. She then stood right in front of him (Arthur was standing by now, for he knew, even without a watch, it was nearly time to leave.) and kissed his cheek. The Briton flushed as she pulled away.

Madeline simply smiled in her gentle way. He knew he wasn't trying to be flirty-she had a boyfriend, not to mention she was too shy. Maddie was just thanking him in her own way. She repeated her words one last time.

"Thank you."

The Peacekeeper came in once more, saying it was time to go. Even though it hadn't been 5 minutes since the timid girl had come in.

~~~Alfred's Goodbyes~~~

(This happens at the same time as the first of Arthur's goodbyes.)

"Alfred! Get your feet off the couch!" Maddie yelled at him, well, as loud as she could. She needed a distraction.

"Maddie, I love how you care more about this ripped up, old couch than you care about me, your own brother, who is being sent off to his possible death," Alfred replied, clutching at his heart with a grin. The twins had to lighten the mood somehow, and joking seemed to be the only way. Maddie put her hand on her hip.

"Knowing you, Al, you'll probably be the hero and manage to save everyone," Madeline said back, trying to hide her smile, behind her hand.

"Yeah, you're right," Alfred smirked, making his twin sister laugh. He could hear his mom too, who had slipped into the room unnoticed. Sophie (Alfred's mom's name) seemed a little uneasy, as her expression was easy to read. Even to someone like Alfred who couldn't read the atmosphere as well as the average person.

So he jumped off the couch, and hugged his mom tightly, "Mom, don't worry. The hero can't die! I'll come back, and then we'll have a better life! We'll get to live in one of the big houses back in Victor's Village!" His mother smiled; her son was so naïve. There was a small chance of him coming out alive. He had next to no training, unless you count play-fighting with sticks with his sister as experience for sword fighting.

"You're right. We'll be rooting for you the whole way," his mother said, bearing a sad smile. She hugged her son back just as tightly for a minute before letting go.

"I'll win this for Dad," Alfred decided. His father had died after being beaten to death, and was still a sore subject for anyone to talk about outside of his family. His mother had been terrible back then, bursting into crying fits whenever a thought of him came to her head. If the American (What am I supposed to say besides American? Panemian?) teenager died, it would probably have the same effect on his mother.

"He'll be watching you as you win. Dad will be proud of you," Madeline said, smiling. She knew how close her twin had been to their father, and he had to be strong and be the man of the family when her father had died. She hugged her brother as her mother had done before.

The little family of three just talked. About memories, about what they would do if, no when, Alfred won the Hunger Games (They needed the hope, even if they knew in their hearts that it was false, and the boy could possibly die.), just talked. No tears were shed as they held on to their false hope.

Finally, the Peacekeepers came in, and ushered the two of the women out. Before they left, though, Alfred's mother did the same thing (though nobody knew it) as Arthur's mother and kissed his forehead before whispering one last "I love you", as her daughter said those same words. (This is the point where Madeline goes into Arthur's room, so there is less than 5 minutes left.)

His mother entered once more after a minute, holding something this time. In her hands was his brown bomber jacket that Alfred wore all the time.

"Here," Sophie handed the jacket to Alfred, "you're allowed to bring in something as a symbol of your district, and your sister and I know how much you love this jacket. I'm not sure if they'll allow it, seeing how large it is, but we can try." Alfred slid on the jacket, putting his hands in the pockets.

"Thanks," Alfred told her, looking down to meet her eyes, for he was a few inches taller than her.

"Good luck," his mother softly said, walking slowly towards the open door.

And then Alfred had to ruin the seriousness of the moment by waving it off and saying, "As if I'll need it," with a playful smirk on his face. This in turn, made the older woman laugh as she walked out the door, taking one last glance at the smiling face of her 18 year old son.

•••

The Peacekeeper gestured for Arthur to come outside onto the platform, where the Capitol train would be arriving shortly. Alfred came out of the room two doors away not a minute later, with a jacket that hadn't been there when he had walked in.

The train finally arrived after five moments of waiting. It wasn't a rusty, old train like the ones used to transport coal; why would the Capitol want to waste one of their nice, fast trains on the poorest Capitol if it was going to be used for coal? Oh wait, they wouldn't give a nice train to them even to transport people!

The doors opened, revealing a sparkling clean inside. Alfred stepped off the platform, shortly followed by Arthur a second later...

•••

**Ok, this is another boring chapter. Little UKCan for you in this chapter. No, England doesn't ****_like_**** Fem!Canada. If you can't really tell from the summary, Prussia is Madeline's boyfriend. Reviews make me update faster! I really want to finish this story, because I have something towards the end I really want to write. Plus, I ****_REALLY_**** want to get to the romance part. **

**I really have no idea what I'm going to do about Alfred's glasses. They could fall off when he's running. I could give him contacts, but those would be a pain to deal with. They sting if you don't take them out for like a whole week, which is the very least they are going to be in the arena. Besides, they can fall out too. I can totally imagine this:**

** "Alfred, hurry up, you bloody git! They're getting closer!"**

** "Wait a minute, dude. I need to put my contacts in. I'm not going to be able to see without them."**

** "I'm going to leave you here if you don't hurry up."**

**_PLEASE READ_****: You guys can leave suggestions for who the stylists, prep teams, Caesar Flickerman type dude, and game makers are. I have the mentors picked out, the decisions for those are final. I think I picked the right people to be stylists, though; France (obviously) and Italy. France is final, but Italy is debatable. I was going to choose Poland, but then I realised I don't want America cross dressing. **

**Till next time!**

**~Sapphire **


	3. The Train

**District 1- Trysta and Klyde**

**District 2- Natalya and Ivan**

**District 3- Lien and Mei**

**District 4- Asa and Serenity**

**District 5- Lars and Bella**

**District 6- Roderich and Katyusha**

**District 7- Gage and Kane**

**District 8- Lili and Vash**

**District 9- Circe and Yao**

**District 10- Olympia and Saffron**

**District 11- Toris and Feliks**

**District 12- Arthur and Alfred **

**District 13- Kiku and Heracles**

**If you had read this before I changed the tributes to mostly Hetalia characters, I apologise.**

**And I changed Dawn to Elizaveta because I realised how much I hated OC's as major characters.**

**My sister (who is currently reading the Hunger Games) told me that the tributes actually see their family and friends at the Justice Building. But let's just say because District 12 was destroyed, the Justice Building is connected to the train station because of Capitol people who need to come to talk about the District. I don't know.**

•••

Chapter 3

The two blondes stepped into the train car. They were followed shortly after by Elizaveta, Gilbert, and Ludwig. The German mentors hadn't been seen up until now, but it was probably because Gilbert was drunk...Gilbert was almost always drunk off his arse, why would today be an exception? Some people wondered how he had won the Hunger Games, and Gilbert would just say it was because of his awesome.

The inside of the train was pristine, not a speck of dirt seen. There was a large table off to the side of the entrance, with six chairs surrounding it. The floor was covered with red carpet, quite unusual for a train in District 12. Actually, it was unusual for anything in District 12. Houses in the District were small shack-looking things with dirt or wooden floors. People were lucky to have two stories.

There were doors leading to the other train cars which were practically rooms. They were larger than Alfred's room back at home, and certainly larger than Arthur's, considering he had 7 people in his family, meaning he had to share, making him have less than a room.

"Your chambers are this way," Elizaveta gestured after Arthur and Alfred had had their fill of the scene in front of them. The two followed, Ludwig and Gilbert going through the door opposite. Gilbert, Ludwig, and Elizaveta had been through five groups of kids together, so they knew what to expect.

Ludwig had won when he was 14, before his older brother. His organisation skills were amazing, put to use in planning traps to have the other tributes cornered. Gilbert had been chosen two years after, and was determined to win. He was proud of Ludwig, but it got rather annoying being overshadowed by your younger brother. Gilbert had just won, no plans or strategy used. As said before, he would claim his so called 'awesomeness' had insured he was going to win from the start.

There was only one other victor besides the two German brothers, and it was a woman in her mid-30's who was currently raising a family of five including herself and her husband. She would have come instead of Ludwig had Arthur not volunteered for Madeline. (This victor is not important, nor a Hetalia character, so I will not bother with giving her a name.)

Elizaveta led them through the door on the left, walking into the room. "Alfred, this is your room," she stated in her Capitol accent.

The room was larger in the inside than it would've looked from the outside. It was kind of like something out of Doctor Who, except not at the same time because it was natural, human technology. There was a large bed covered with black silk sheets with a matching comforter and a door leading to a small bathroom. How did they even manage to get running water on a train?

Alfred flopped onto the bed as Elizaveta led Arthur through another door that was connected to Alfred's room. As they walked inside the door, Arthur could tell this room was practically the same as Alfred's, if not identical. Elizaveta left him to changed and clean up, telling him they were going to eat in about half an hour.

The green-eyes boy opened the bathroom door before stepping in. There was a clear glass shower, almost begging for perverts to come watch whoever was inside. The sink had crystal faucet covers and had both hot and cold water. The Capitol had hot water on a train, whereas in District 12, you had to boil water if you wanted a warm shower? It nice to see they had their priorities in order.

Arthur undressed before turning the knob in the shower for hot water. There were all sorts of products on the shower shelf, begging to be used, from ocean breeze to roses.

•••

The blond boy opened the drawers of the dresser, looking for suitable clothes to wear. He picked out an outfit he would've worn before they had moved, back in Britain. It was a green sweater-vest over a long sleeved white shirt with slacks.

Arthur went back into the bathroom and took the necklace Madeline had given him from where he had left it on the sink. He had taken it off before getting in the shower as not to rust the silver metal of the charm. He unclasped the ends before putting it on his neck and fastening it again.

The viridian-eyed boy slipped into his shoes once again before knocking on the door of Alfred's room. Alfred shouted that he could pass through, he wasn't naked. Arthur opened the door and looked away at the sight he saw with a slight blush on his face. Alfred hadn't been fully dressed as Arthur had thought; he was still searching through the drawers for a shirt that he would like.

Not that Arthur had a problem with that, of course. He knew he was bisexual; he was 18, a person would think he would know his orientation by now. And it wasn't as if he was in love with Alfred, the other teen was admittedly...attractive. The American was perfectly toned, with a nice tan and a muscular body. It was a wonder he didn't have a girlfriend (or even a boyfriend) back at home.

The sandy blond crossed through the room awkwardly as Alfred finally just threw on a plain t-shirt, which of course he grabbed his bomber jacket to put over. Arthur entered the main room of the District 12 train car where Elizaveta, Gilbert, and Ludwig were waiting.

All kinds of food were set out on the table, making both the boys' mouth salivate. Alfred had never eaten food like this, and Arthur had only eaten food close to this more than 10 years ago, back when he had lived right outside of London with the rest of his family. And even then, it was British food, making it not quite as good as every other nationality's. (I'm kidding, I love British food in real life!)

Alfred practically dove into the table, he was so eager to start eating. Elizaveta sat at the head of the table opposite to the door they had just come out of, with Ludwig on her left and Gilbert sitting next to his brother. Heaven forbid Gilbert being able to sit next to the brunette escort.

"Dig in," Elizaveta simply said to Alfred, who obliged immediately. He piled lots of food onto his plate, heaping things over so that it disgusted Arthur how much food was on the platter. Elizaveta, along with Gilbert looked like they were going to burst out laughing any minute at the blond, who was shovelling food into his mouth as if his life depended on it.

"Alfred, you're going to get fat if you eat like that," Elizaveta teased with a giggle, seeming not at all disgusted with how much food the youngest at the table was eating, "and you forgot there's still dessert."

Arthur looked over the rich food that lay on the table. There was everything you could think of there, way too much food for the five of them to eat. Well, maybe it could all be eaten, considering how quickly Alfred was downing the delicacies.

The dessert was brought out, and Alfred dug into that immediately. Arthur was almost sick at the sight of him wolfing it down so quickly. He hadn't even eaten half that much.

They finished the meal, with close to no conversation. Except Gilbert constantly annoying Elizaveta, which eventually she asked the servers for a frying pan from the kitchen. She was given what she asked for, and the mentor shut up immediately. He had clearly been attacked with it before. Elizaveta could probably win the games the children where being cruelly forced into with just that single frying pan.

Ludwig flicked on the television with the remote so they could watch the other reapings that had taken place in other Districts. The program had just started, so the reaping for District 1 was beginning. As the escort called out a name, a blond haired boy leapt forward as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. He stated his name (Klyde), then smirked and over-confidently claimed he was going to win.

There were a few people that seemed unable to leave Arthur's mind. There was the boy from District One. An emotionless looking girl who had volunteered from District 2 who looked like she was plotting how to kill everyone in the arena already. There was a 12 year old girl from District 8 who looked like she was going to break down on the stage right there, she was so terrified. A boy from Seven who was quiet, but had a determined look on his face as if he was like the Careers and had been waiting to get picked, except in this case, he was too scared to volunteer all the years before. And last, there was another 12 year old from District Five, who had the same fire Arthur had had in his eyes, as she volunteered for her older brother who was 16. Her brother still ended up getting picked again, much to her dismay.

Elizaveta dismissed the four, telling them to get some sleep before tomorrow, when they would get to the Capitol. The train suddenly came to a stop, throwing Alfred, who had never been on a rain before, to the ground. Arthur had been on lots back in England, so he wasn't unused to the feeling.

Elizaveta smiled sheepishly. "District 13," she clarified, waving it off as nothing. The two tributes made it back to their rooms.

Arthur changed into pyjamas, simple blue ones without designs most of the others had. He crawled into bed, but couldn't manage to fall asleep. The blond kept seeing Peter in his head, crying about him volunteering. It made it worse that Arthur was determined to send Alfred home as the winner.

Light flooded his room, and he sat up to see the other tribute in the doorway. He was simply in his boxers, despite the number of pyjamas in the dressers. Alfred's glasses weren't there in their usual place, making the 18 year old look even younger. If Arthur thought Alfred had looked attractive with only his shirt off...

"Couldn't sleep?" Arthur asked, blinking to get adjusted to the light as Alfred turns them on, "don't you know it's rude to barge in on someone when the are trying to sleep?" He teased, sliding so that he was sitting against the backboard of the bed.

Alfred scoffed, "'Cause you really look like you're trying to sleep." He closed the door, and sat on the bed in front of Arthur, "how do they expect us to get to bed this early? It's only 8:30! It's still light out!" Arthur peeked at he closed blinds and sure enough, he could see some grey light filtering in through the window. He hadn't even bothered to check the time before getting into bed.

"Who knows?" Arthur responded, rolling his eyes. He usually went to bed around 8:30 or 9:00 unless he had schoolwork to finish, but obviously this wasn't the case with Alfred.

"This is so boring!" Alfred groaned, laying back on the bed from where he was sitting.

"That isn't what you are going to be saying when we are in the arena," Arthur said, kicking the blanket off of himself so it landed on Alfred's face.

"Dude, you're wrong. After I kick everyone's asses, I'm going to go on the tour and tell everyone, 'That was the most boring 30 seconds of my life'," Alfred replied, grinning after throwing the blanket off of his face and sitting up once again. (Yes, I am aware the proper grammar is 'Those were the most...', but he's Alfred...)

Arthur snorted, "You won't if you end up dead within those 30 seconds. There are at least eight tributes with more training than you from Districts 1, 2, 4, and 13." (District 13 makes nuclear weapons for Heaven's sake. I would think they would be a career District.)

"Nah, I'm going to kick all of their asses within at most, a day," Alfred replied. Arthur stifled a laugh. It was hilarious how over-confident and stubborn he was. They were probably going to be in the arena for at least a week.

The room was silent once again before Arthur spoke, "What is your family like?" He already knew about Madeline, but what about Alfred's parents.

"I live with my mom and Maddie," Alfred responded, biting his lip. Was it fine to just talk about a subject that he had kept bottled up inside for years with a boy he had met not even twelve hours ago. The blond shrugged mentally before thinking, 'Well, we're heading to an arena to fight to the death. It's better to get it off my chest before, if, I die.'

"My dad was beaten to death by those bastards that call themselves Peacekeepers. He was just out beyond the fence when they had found him. Dad just happened to be out on one of the days that they patrol the fence. He was just providing for his family the best he could," Alfred continued, turning his head away from Arthur.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." Arthur trailed off. You could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. He shifted uncomfortably where he was sitting.

"It's fine; it wasn't your fault," Alfred replied. He let out a laugh, "How ironic that they're called Peacekeepers when they do things like this. He was hurting no one, causing trouble for no one, but they still killed him," he paused, "my father was one of the most peaceful people to exist, but still, they killed him.

"My mom was awful after that. She could still work, ya know, but she would burst into crying fits whenever she thought of him. Maddie wasn't much better. That's the reason she's so quiet. I tried to forget about him, move on with life as he would want. I couldn't forget about him, but I had to be the man of the family, the one to stay strong. So I got what few jobs there are for kids in the District to help pay, as Mom couldn't work as much, and Dad was gone...Maddie stayed home some days to take care of Mom whenever she didn't go to work," Alfred continued.

"But Mom got better and eventually she started working again. I could give up some of the jobs I had taken on, but I still had to keep two because Dad had...passed away. Maddie eventually opened up again-well, more open than she was before-and she is now dating Gilbert," Alfred finished, looking back to Arthur after his long story.

"Wait, your shy little sister is dating _that_ idiot?" Arthur snorted. He couldn't see them working out. The blond had known Madeline was dating someone, but he didn't know it was _Gilbert_ of all people.

"_Somehow, _she manages to put up with him. He's the one who got her to open up again, so I can't really argue with them as a thing," Alfred responded, sitting up once again. The golden blonde sat criss-cross on Arthur's bed.

Arthur glanced at the clock on the wooden side table. It read in blocky numbers: 9:07.

"Alfred, I'm going to bed," Arthur told the two month younger teen, "we have the opening ceremony tomorrow, and I don't want to fall off the back of the chariot." Alfred gave a slight laugh before getting up.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't want to ruin my gorgeousness with dark circles," Alfred replied with a grin. Arthur simply rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face too.

Arthur fell back, his head hitting the pillow as Alfred turned out his lights. He shifted uncomfortably under the blankets for a few minutes before he fell into a dreamless sleep.

•••

**And there we have it. Chapter 3 is finished. I'm sorry you guys had to wait longer than you should've for such a lame chapter. Next is the Opening Ceremony! Romance doesn't really come in until the games start.**

**I'm wondering if anyone would like to be my beta. I would go to the Beta section, but I would prefer someone who actually reads my story. No, don't say you would like to beta just to see the chapters earlier. I am really lazy, and don't really like finding and correcting mistakes. There probably aren't many because I type all of my stories on my iPad, and all the spell check and auto capitalisation/punctuation, but I would still prefer to go to a beta before I release it.**

**The next chapter will be posted before the end of the week, I can guarantee that, probably before Wednesday considering I am still in school (not college) and that means I have the whole summer to do nothing. Because summer is for doing nothing. School is when I talk to my friends.**

**I apologise for all these long author notes that make the chapter seem longer. Sorry!**

**~Sapphire**


	4. Make It Worth Their Time

Chapter 4

**I guess I lied. I thought I would be able to update by Wednesday, but I kind of had writer's block for only this particular story. I have another story that I haven't published, but the first chapter is only around 1,500 words, so I wanted to make another chapter before I posted it. **

**It was so difficult coming up with an outfit for them to wear in the Opening Ceremony. I had a lights idea, and then I realised, "oh, they already used that in Catching Fire, and I really want to be original". So I used this idea. Hope it's good enough for you!**

**Angioletto-Seborga, as I said last chapter. I know most people use Marcello if they even include him, but I like this name a lot better.**

**Reply to Rin Suzuki- I have now chapters the past chapters to that it has the list of tributes, which are now mostly Hetalia characters. I can't change them all, due to the fact I wanted a certain number of girls and boys, but ports of them are Hetalia characters now.**

**Please R&R!**

••••

Arthur awoke to Elizaveta slightly shaking him awake, telling him today was the Opening Ceremony and how he had to be ready.

After he had gotten into the shower and dressed, breakfast was served with food just as rich and delicious as yesterday's. It was a bad thing to get used to such luscious and flavourful food, as there would be nothing like this in the arena. There would only be what the plants and animals provided, and perhaps if he was fast enough, food from the Cornucopia.

Alfred ate a great deal less than yesterday, Arthur noted. He wondered what the reason was—maybe he had come to the same conclusion about how it was bad to get used to so much food..?

There were all kinds of food from iced fruit to crispy bacon to cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven. There was considerably more food on the table for breakfast than what a family in District 12 ate in a week. It rather annoyed Arthur, thinking about all those kids starving back home—no District Twelve was not home; home was back in England where he had lived a free life that didn't only give you privileges if you were from a certain part. In England, life was fair; there was no raffle where the prize was possible death, just because your ancestors, or in Arthur's case, just because he moved where people's ancestors had rebelled.

As they finished up, the train was racing through the Capitol, allowing them to see all the ginormous buildings and crazily dressed people. The people were colourful dots on the streets, waving up to the train with smiles on their faces. Not that the tributes could see those white-toothed -with the occasional colourfully stained- smiles, but everyone up there could imagine them. The Capitolists enjoyed watching kids fight to the death as if they were dogs in a dog fight.

Alfred, being the likeable person he was, waved back with a bright smile on his face. His head was out the window as Arthur sat in a chair he had brought over to the window. The sandy blond didn't wave, nor did he smile, all the time thinking of the sick, twisted pleasure they got watching children-well, not all of them were children considering they allowed 18, 19, and 20 year-olds-kill until one was left alive, forever having to live with the guilt of murdering other innocent children.

Only when they got to the station, where reporters and journalists awaited, hoping to get a few questions in before the interviews did Alfred stick his head back in. They were all wearing crazy outfits-there was even a woman who had dyed herself blue and had white tattoos covering her body in swirls (and similar designs).

The five-consisting of two mentors, two tributes, and an escort-stepped onto the train platform. It was much nicer than the one back in District 12. The one back there was made of rusty metal that creaked with practically every step, and was covered in coal dust. The one here had a surface that looked like it had been polished that very morning-it probably had, knowing what he did about the Capitol-and the platform was at least two times larger than the one back in District Twelve.

•••

"And this is your stylist, Feliciano," Ludwig had been the one to lead Alfred to his room in the Remake Centre while Gilbert brought Arthur to his. Mostly because Gilbert was good friends with the other stylist, Francis Bonnefoy (and the interviewer, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo), despite them living in the Capitol and Gilbert living in the poorest District. Being a victor, he always used some of his money to travel up here and do things-though no one knows what those things are besides them-with those two people in particular.

Anyway, back to the storyline. Feliciano was an auburn-haired man, shorter than both Alfred and Ludwig. He had a little curl that stuck out on the left side of his head (his left, not the one facing him's left). If the stylist's eyes had been open, Alfred would've seen that they were a honey-amber colour that complimented his hair nicely.

"Ciao!" the smaller man greeted with a smile on his face. His accent was obviously Italian, different from the Capitol accents, but almost as high-pitched as theirs. Feliciano stood on his tip-toes and pecked Ludwig on the cheek, making the mentor flush.

"I'll be leaving now so your prep team can get to you," the German said, leaving, but not before giving the younger man a kiss on the cheek, which-if possible-made the stylist's smile brighter. It wasn't as if Alfred minded seeing this, though; he himself was gay.

"Okay, I just need to go back with Francis and make the finishing touches to your outfit. Lovi and Angi will be in in a few minutes to get you ready," Feliciano said, and with that, he turned and was out the door opposite Ludwig had left through.

Alfred took the time to examine the room. There was a chair with the hairdresser-style sink behind it to wash hair. The walls of the room were a pale blue, and the floor was linoleum that clicked with almost every step. There were shelves and shelves of beauty products and waxing strips, nail polish and hair bands, hairspray and makeup. This would be a teenage girl's dream bathroom, with all the things they could do to themselves to make themselves look "better" than they already did.

Two other men entered the room, both looking similar to the stylist who had left. One had dark chocolate hair, but the same honey brown eyes as Feliciano had had. His curl was on the opposite side, and higher than the stylist's had been, too. The other had pale green eyes-no where near as green as Arthur's- and hair the shade in between the other two's. He had a curl too-where all three brothers?-and it was in the sale place as Feli's was, but this man's was boxy and kinky ((I guess you can take it both ways, considering it's the Italy brothers erogenous zone, so it's most likely Seborga's too.)) as opposed to smooth and perfectly curled.

Alfred let out a laugh before saying, "You guys look so similar, it's like there is three of the same person!" The green-eyed man laughed too, while the other looked kind of annoyed. Whether he was annoyed because of Alfred or because he had to be here in general, the blond couldn't tell.

"That's because this is Lovi," the other gestured to the dark-haired boy, "who is Feli's brother. I'm Angioletto, but you can call me Angi. I'm their cousin," Angi said with a warm smile.

•••

Finally, the two were finished. Finally, meaning it took over three hours just to prepare to get the make up and clothes on. From what he heard as they were prepping him, as a prep team should do, Lovino-Lovi's full name-had a very...colourful vocabulary. He had probably used at least every curse word under the sun-and if there were any not under the sun, they were used too-at least once. Angi was a very bright and optimistic person just as Feliciano seemed to be.

From what Angi had told him, the three were from Italy, where their grandfather still lived. Well, technically, Angi was from a little micronation beside Italy called Seborga, but no one else had bothered to remember that, so they just called him Italian. Lovino was two years older than Feliciano, and Angi was the youngest of them all, only at the young age of 17, while Lovi was 22 and Feli was 20.

Alfred found it easy to talk to Angioletto. Lovino was much harder to chat with, and his favourite insult to use seemed to be "bastard". This word was used freely when Angi had mentioned how Feliciano and Ludwig were supposedly in a relationship-and from what the blond had seen before, it was very likely to be true. The dark-haired Italian seemed to hate both of the District 12 mentors, calling them bastards in abundance.

When they were finally ready, Angi sent Lovino to go get Feliciano, knowing that the Italian didn't get along well with people except-and this was only sometimes-with Antonio and his brother. Angi left shortly after, having nothing else to do.

They had not tried to groom Nantucket-as he had deemed the cowlick on his had when he was younger, for some strange reason he didn't remember-down into place, luckily. It would've been...a little...awkward had they tried.

Feliciano burst through the door once again, smiling widely, "Ve~ We finished the outfits! Do you want to see them?" Alfred nodded, and the energetic Italian pulled him along into a room with two mannequins holding two identical outfits.

The base of it was a black unitard. There were then layers of red, orange, and yellow sheer fabric so you could still see the midnight coloured fabric underneath. Under the layers, as Feliciano showed him, were normal, uncoloured lights to make the sheer fabric appear as if it were glowing when they were turned on. Sequins that matched the chiffon were sewn in so that when the light hit it, they glittered and added to the glowing effect. There were black mining boots-though not the dirtied and coal dusted ones that miners in the District wore-to go with it.

"Wow..," Alfred gaped at the outfits, "these are awesome!" Just then, Arthur and who Alfred supposed was Francis came in through the door, the Briton seemingly trying to stay as far away as possible, though still following him.

"They look...amazing," Arthur said, having the same initial reaction as Alfred did at first glance.

Francis smirked before replying, "That's because I designed them." After a moment, he added, "Along with Feliciano here, of course."

Arthur's impressed reaction was replaced with a scowl, "Shut it, frog." He smacked the Frenchman on the arm.

Francis clutched his heart, a mock-hurt expression took over his face, "I am offended that you would say such a thing, mon ami."

"What makes you think I would ever want to be your friend?" Arthur scowled again, and Francis replied with, "Oh, so you know French, do you?" The wavy-haired Frenchman once again smirked at the Briton.

Arthur opened his mouth to make a witty retort, but Alfred interrupted, "Don't ya think we should be getting ready right about now? I mean, the thing starts in about an hour and a half..." Arthur sighed before walking back into the room, obviously annoyed that he would have to spend at least another hour with Francis, who he was sure was going to molest him at any moment.

•••

The next hour consisted of just getting ready for the event. Feliciano chatted as he put makeup on the American to conceal the childhood scars from plying too rough. He used highlighting and shadows to make it appear as if light was coming off the suit onto his face without even turning it on. Black dust and the occasional red sparkle was in his hair and over his arms-his legs were covered by the boots and unitard-to give him the appearance of coal with glowing embers.

The two stylists had also set it up so there was a small fan in their chariot which would make the chiffon flutter like flames with the lights making them glow. The power pack for the lights was hidden in the large boots that they were given. Alfred had been given contacts-someone showed him how to put them in and take them out, and he did a few times so they didn't get stuck in his eyes-so that he looked younger. ((Because admit it, America looks a lot younger without his glasses.))

They arrived at the arena for the Opening Ceremony about 10 minutes before the actual thing began. The tributes were chatting until either their stylist or mentor pulled them away to get ready for their trip around the circle. People were dressed in all sorts of outfits; for example, the two from District 4 were dressed as mermaids, while District 13 were dressed as nuclear power workers. Some of the costumes were pretty lame in Alfred's opinion.

Their chariot was black with flame designs that looked like they could burn you. They seemed to be painted with watercolour, but it was impossible to paint watercolour on metal, so the artist must've had lots of skill. Francis later told them that Feliciano had painted the chariot himself, and to congratulate him about that as well as half of the credit for the outfits. The horses pulling it were a coal dust black to match both the chariot and the tributes themselves.

Francis pulled them both aside five minutes before District One was to make their way towards City Circle, where everyone will be waiting to see the rest of the tributes, "Remember to be as generous to the crowd as they are to you. Blow them kisses, wave, that sort of thing. Try to seem confident and like you are friends, not two people who hate each other."

The two blond 18 year-olds nod as the District 1 tributes are climbing in the chariot, about to set off. The other three-Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano-are waiting back by the chariot, telling Arthur and Alfred to get on. District Seven is just setting off as they climb on.

"Ve~ They're going to love you, don't seem so nervous!" Feliciano said to them, actually sensing the mood for once. It was Arthur who was nervous, but he'd never admit that in a million years. He smiled back at the Italian before looking back, straight ahead where District 10 is racing off to City Circle. Francis gestures to them to turn on the power for the lights and fan, and they do. The sky overhead is starting to grey with evening light disappearing with the sun.

District 11 leaves, and it's finally their turn. The black horses start with a gallop before breaking into a run. Arthur feels like he's about to fall off before Alfred sees his predicament and grasps the older boy's hand firmly with a smile.

People gasp at the design of the costumes before cheering as loud-if not louder-as they did for the favourited Districts like One and Two. Capitolists wave and cheer to the two in the chariot. Flowers and blown kisses are directed towards the pair of tributes from District 12. They do as the French stylist instructed, blowing kisses back, waving, smiling at the people who are secretly wishing to watch them die later on television.

Both names are cheered along with the name of their District. The ride is exhilarating, having so many people cheer for you would surely make you happy for once. It makes you feel as if you did something to deserve all this cheering and you forget for the moment that this is jut a glorified way to kill you. This is how the pair of blonds-one with cerulean eyes and the other with viridian-feel as the chariot races through the Capitol. Wind blowing at your face, making a cool breeze; the glow of your outfit standing out along the dark skyline as you ride through the Capitol. This is how it feels to be sent to your death. No one would believe it if they didn't know about the Hunger Games in Panem.

It's the thrill of the moment which causes Alfred to ask Arthur, "Are you gay?"

"What?"

"Dude, listen the first time. I said, are you gay?"

"Wait, what?! Why?"

"You better be, 'cause I am going to make this worth all these people's time."

"What are you ta—" Arthur is bent back as Alfred's lips capture his in a kiss. On of Alfred's hands rests on the side of the chariot, as to keep them steady, while the other is against his back. ((Bent back as in, you know that painting in which the soldier kisses the woman in the street when the war ends? That way.)) Catcalls and whistles are made. Somewhere back where the chariots set off from, Elizaveta faints. By now, gay marriage and all those issues aren't a problem. It was like how people protested freeing the slaves, but nowadays, other people think that was a stupid decision to protest it.

Arthur kisses back, as if issuing a challenge to the two-month-younger teen, making the golden blond kiss him more passionately. They finally break as they make it City Circle. They were only about a minute away when Alfred had asked-they can't make out through an entire twenty minute ride. Arthur straightens up, blushing profusely, while Alfred just leans against the side of the chariot with a satisfied smile on his face.

This is sure to make the Capitol pay attention to District 12 this year, or at least get them more sponsors.

••••

**I apologise for any mistakes. Auto-correct is stupid, but I really don't want to turn it off. **

**A little GerIta in this chapter! And USUK! Kind of romance!**

**Yay! Over 10,000 words! So many exclamation marks!**

**Well, France may seem a little OOC in the chariot part, but whatever...**

**Remember to leave a review!**

_**~Sapphire**_


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